Hey, nice rack

Yes, this post is about what you think it’s about. It’s about boobs. Cans. Hooters. Melons. Jugs. Sweater meat.

My friends, I am not a flat-chested woman. I’m packing heat. I’ve wintered well. My cups overfloweth. Mind you, I’m not complaining. It comes in handy quite often. I’ve got a built-in popcorn catcher. And it’s a convenient place to keep a tissue or money when I have no pockets available.

There are, however, some drawbacks. The most annoying being unsolicited comments from representatives of the XY chromosome pairing.

I started getting comments and catcalls when I was a teenager. Now that I’m in my 40s I don’t get as many but it still happens occasionally. And it’s not like I’m pulling a Sue Ellen Mischke, walking around wearing just a bra. I can wear the baggiest of sweaters and some slack-jawed idiot will still zero in on my chest.

Do I find it icky when guys make lewd comments? Ewww, yes. Do I think it’s sexist and degrading? Fuck yeah. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized about launching asshole-seeking missiles at these knuckle draggers.

But my other feeling is, if you’re going to make a sleazy remark, you should put some thought into it. Make it memorable. Pithy. Because I’ve heard a lot of really lame stuff. Loud kissy noises, a variety of animal-type grunts, many yells of “Woooooooo yeah!!!!” or words to that effect. Once a guy came up real close to me, gaped at my torso and said, “BIG ONES!!” in a voice that sounded eerily like that of Cheech Marin. And for international flavor, I’ve gotten a lot of “Ayyyyyyy mami!!!”

Come on, fellas. Don’t phone it in with a disgusting noise or a wolf whistle or something juvenile like that. Those are all really played out. You can do better.

I’m not saying you should doff your hat and proclaim, “My dear lady, your mammaries are quite bountiful and luxurious indeed. Good day to you!” But if you’re going to be a douche, at least make an effort not to be a stupid douche.

The best line I ever heard was when I was about 17 or 18. Anyone remember those t-shirts sold by Haagen-Dazs back in the glory days of the 80s? They had the H-D logo on the front and an ice cream flavor on the back. I had one (mine said Coffee). One day when I was wearing it, I was walking down the street and saw a guy ahead of me leaning against a parked car. I had a feeling he was going to be a problem. I just looked straight ahead and hoped he would leave me alone. He didn’t. As I passed him, he said, “Haagen-Dazs, huh?? Nice scoops you got there, honey!”

Dear Madame,
What a fantastical way to start my Wednesday.
You my good lady…are DA bomb!!
I was a 32B at age 11. It was HORRIBLE!! OMG!! GO AWAY!! None of my friends had boobs. Even my older sisters made fun of me. Uou can imagine what happened. My bra got snapped…and I got all sorts of unwanted attention…frim boys in my class

Your breasticles are likely luxurious, indeed. I feel your pain and as someone who was once a FFF, I have often thought in my head “at least come up with something good, yeesh.” I have never received a witty comment worth the mention, though once a guy walked up and squeezed the air and said “honk honk!” What anI idiot.

“Scientists now believe that the primary biological function of breasts is to make males stupid.”
Dave Barry

Unfortunately I fall into that category as well. Try to find some flattery and humor as well. We men do love a woman’s body, just some of us are still drawing pictures on the cave wall and are named Ugh.

Yeah, I agree. Either keep your stupid comments to yourself or come up with something clever and original. I was flatsy Patsy until I had kids so I know what it is to have both types of chesticles. I’m not sure which has more pros and which has more cons. The popcorn catcher/ chest plate is very handy, I’ll give you that.

Sorry Madame,
I really shouldnt try comment on my phone. So. Where was I?
I got all sorts of unwanted attention from the boys in my 6th grade class. But, I also got them from boys way older. Because face it, I LOOKED older. I had bigger boobs than the highschool drama teacher.
I tried to strap those puppies down, wore big tops…until one of my friend’s bigger sister told me, “Sweetheart, you have an awesome figure. If you got it, flaunt it”. From that point on, I did.
I didn’t hide it, and pretended not to notice the gawking and staring, and bra snapping. When I was 16, I got my first job at Kmart. I was a cashier, and I had become immune to the creepy smiles and eyes that zeroed in on my chest. One day, a college guy came through with his buddies, who were sniggering and being stupid and turning my face a lovely shade of red. As I was giving him change, he looked me right in the eye, and said..”You know what? You have the most gorgeous eyes.” And then he left.
THAT. WAS. COOL.
Love, Lis
xoxooxx
P.S. Sue Ellen!!!! “You know Sue Ellen, it’s not a BRA”….’O..I KNOW’…hahahhahaaa!!!!!

I never tried to strap mine down, actually. I come from a long line of busty broads, so it never occurred to me to suppress the goodness. But the nuisance factor was always there. And that guy who said you have gorgeous eyes should get some sort of prize for that.

You’re so freaking funny, B. I was talking with a friend of mine who has excellent booty, and she never gets comments on anything but her robust back either. Different strokes for different folks, that’s what makes the world go ’round.

I’ve always been of the “What the hell? They’re just boobs. You’ve been looking at them your whole life” camp. This, of course means that mine are tiny, but… Seriously, how exciting can boobs be after so many years of looking at them?

THIS explains it, John. No wonder I didn’t understand this before. I sucked at Ancient Greek Physics when I was in college. That Archimedes knew his stuff. Water displacement theory AND the theory of douchitude? Genius.

can i apologise on behalf of my gender? We can’t help it, we love boobies, but the majority of us DO try to keep our admiration to furtive glances (Ok sometimes we get caught) and internal appreciation.
However some fools seem to think if they are there, they are fair game for comments that wouldnt make the edit of a Carry On film. And for those fools and those comments, i apologise.

You’re kind to apologize on behalf of your fellow males, TRG. But see, again, this is where the accent gives you the advantage. Englishmen/Irishmen/Scotsmen/Welshmen could come out with the filthiest, most unsavory comments, and I’d probably giggle and blush.

Sorry, Weebles, I can’t relate. My chest never took that trip to bountiful and the only thing it catches are coffee stains—BUT, I do agree with you about the knuckle dragger (good one!) comments. If you can’t show some class, show some wit. Good point, great post.
And hubba hubba.

Oh no siree. I am not commenting. I will not be the stupid male jerk that will say something wherein I may be a confirmed stupid male jerk so you cannot trick me into commenting because everyone will think I am a creep or something so I’ll just let the ladies comment. Kinda sad though. My comment woulda made everyone BUST out laughing.

Boy, do I hear ya! I used to fret over this when I was younger…gave it up for Lent a long time ago. The interesting thing is that for the XY chromosome bearers the mammary obsession never gets old! xoM

You are lucky Madame. I have the oppisite problem. I distinctly remember the one time someone (other than H.H.) looked at my imaginary cleavage. I thought “oh my god, he just looked at my rack…it’s a miracle”, or something like that.

So….there I was minding my own business, having a nice conversation with an online buddy when all of a sudden I get an alert telling me that Fear No Weebles has a [New Post] Hey, nice rack. My first thoughts, of course, were this has just got to be about her newly acquired deer mount. Right? I know there are deer in New York, trust me, I’ve seen I Am Legend. But, this is not what the post was about. The first two lines turned me into something similar to Sloth from the Goonies. I will try my best to hand out a clever cat call.
“Ma’am, I think we should obey the first commandment given (go forth and multiply), cause I know you will be able to feed well, all of our begats.”

See? Thank you, Brother Jon, for confirming my suspicions. I think most guys turn into Sloth, at least in spirit. You poor fellas. You just can’t help it, can you. And your Biblical-flavored cat call is funny as fuck.

I can almost — ALMOST — understand where the dudes are coming from on this one. I didn’t have boobs (well, 34 A 1/2) until I had a baby, and now those suckers are C cups. And I can’t stop looking at them when I’m wearing a low-cut shirt. THEY’RE ATTACHED TO ME, BUT I CAN’T STOP LOOKING. God, imagine what a mess I’d be if I suddenly grew a penis? I’d never be able to leave the house!

I’ve seen that cleavage of yours, Kathy, and it is bountiful indeed. I have to admit, I check out cleavage on women too. Sometimes the gravitational pull is just too strong, you can’t look away. But I generally have enough decorum not to scream out, “BIG ONES!!””

I have never had a problem in the breast department… For a long time I was jealous of my more well endowed sisters, but then I began to think of it as a blessing. Now, however, I finally have some impressive mammaries that are both bountiful and luxurious… but the baby belly protruding beneath them somewhat detracts from their sex appeal. Thank goodness! lol.

HAH! True enough. I will steer clear of construction sites then. The father of my child (who, incidentally, is a construction worker) is mightily turned on by my lumps and bump, but I just figured it was a macho “look what my seed did” thing.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m relatively chestless. A proper “B”, to be fair, but I don’t make much effort to give them their due.

However, I still occasionally get catcalls, whistles, etc. and all I wish is that someone would say something clever enough that it would at least be worth repeating when I’m ranting about how ignorant it is of men to do that in the first place.

My most memorable experience, though not clever, was when I was eight months pregnant with M. I was walking from my car into a building for a meeting, and a guy in a pickup truck was approaching from behind and whistling. As he passed me and (maybe) decided that he’d actually say something, I heard him gasp and say to his passenger, “Oh, man!! She’s pregnant!”

I’m sure your chestal region is quite lovely, meizac. As for the comment you got, I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that it came from a guy in a pickup truck. Isn’t the pickup truck the official vehicle of idiot dirtbags?

Creative Lewdery! I love it, Cathy. Yes, this guy definitely gets that award. I couldn’t help laughing at his comment but I tried to do it surreptitiously so he wouldn’t see it and be encouraged to try out some other material.

I think most women go through these problems. Rarely do I ever think of anything clever so I keep it to myself. Or if I’m with a male friend I’ll whisper it in his ear which I guess looks a little queer to be whispering into a male’s friend then giggling afterwards.

The kissy faces are definitely the worst. For some reason I always imagine it to be guys who drive El Caminos.

You are so witty and funny.
– your mammaries are quite bountiful and luxurious indeed – that made me choke on my laughter! My husband loves all women…little boobs/big boobs, he is fascinated. I am a very shy/modest person – I bought a new shirt with a low cut front… I put it on and was hoping for a nice compliment – the first thing outta the man’s mouth was a weird growling noise, yes, growling noise and he exclaimed: “Chesty Larue!” (I’m not sure they can help it)

I have never had this problem, being less-than-generously-endowed. But I’ve seen friends at the receiving end of similar comments, and I know they share your disdain. I think some women I know have wished for the superpower of flash-freezing a modern caveman’s nether regions…..

I do have great appreciation for the female figure, but it is not in my double x chromosome nature to make a full blown fool of myself and utter something stupid at specific attributes. plus by age 35 I mastered drool control. At this stage in life when in the presence of a curvaceous woman willing to get horizontal (but vertical works, too) with me I have been known to enthusiastically bellow, “Thank God I’m not dead yet!”

See, LA, as a member of the double-x chromosome brigade, you understand that random comments probably aren’t going to get you laid. And you understand the importance of timing. Bellowing “Thank God I’m not dead yet” in the presence of a particular woman, whether horizontal, vertical, or any other position, is EXACTLY when such statements should be made.

I don’t think that commenting on a woman’s breasts (to her, I mean–guys talk about women’s breasts ALL the time among themselves) is ever really appropriate (unless she asks “What do you think?” a question I have NEVER been asked). The funniest one i ever heard was in regard to this lovely, delightfully busty young lady who I would hang out with on smoke breaks at my job. But instead of saying smoke break, the office code word (we were all dudes) was “Got milk?”

There was a girl at my college people called “The Shelf.” I had a professor who was said to have a “Uniboob,” but it wasn’t at all (and please, please, please overlook the pun) titillating.

“Got milk?” Wow. Now was this lovely, delightfully busty young lady aware of this code or was it just among you dudes?

I tend not to ask guys “What do you think?” about my cleavage, mainly because the opinions are always offered so readily that there’s no need to ask. This is true for gay men too, by the way. If I had a dime for every gay guy I’ve ever met who’s commented on my rack, I could retire right now.

“Asshole-seeking missiles”! Buwahaha! Where can I get some of those puppies?

I’ve always considered myself average in the boob department, and no guy has ever made a lewd face/comment/kissy noise. This means one of three things: 1) My boobs are not worthy of comment; or 2) Canadian guys are all really polite; or 3) They noticed the machete strapped to my hip and decided to go make their comments elsewhere.

The military doesn’t have asshole-seeking missiles, since they’d obviously have way too many friendly fire accidents. So I’m thinking of building them myself. As soon as I’ve perfected them, I’ll ship a whole bunch up to you, Diane. As for why you haven’t been heckled by guys, I’m thinking the machete might have something to do with it. Although frankly it would have just piqued my interest if I were a guy.

I was offered a job there, calahan, but then i realized how shitty I look in orange. It doesn’t work with my coloring, but more importantly, it just looked like I had 2 pumpkins strapped to my chest. That’s just not sexy.

Geez… I must be getting older. These days when I think ‘nice rack’ I am generally looking at pork ribs in the supermarket 😦

As for terminology, I was always a little partial to “bodacious ta ta’s”… not that I was ever rude enough to shout that out to anyone, though. When confronted with the sort of spectacular breasts that take your breath away and rob one of the power of logical thought, it is far better (as a matter of personal safety and politeness) to just roll one’s self in a tight little ball and moan softly… It *does* draw a little attention but it tends more to confuse rather than be actively offensive…

Ofcourse… now that I’ve given away my secret, I suppose *everyone* will be doing that now!

You’re forgiven for thinking that, sybaritica, since you’re a major foodie. And “bodacious ta-tas” is a classic. I don’t hear that expression very often these days.

Also, you’ve just clarified a lot for me regarding the sight of guys sitting there with their arms wrapped around their knees, rocking back and forth and whimpering. It used to baffle me. Now I understand. Thank you.

Me and the DDs are with you. I have noticed comments are your popcorn catcher comment. I never knew it was just us Jane Russell girls who could catch popcorn. I like it because then I have a snack when I get home from the theater.
And good for you LaLa! I’d like to have some work done on mine but can’t remember where I left that $8k 🙂

Right?? It’s always a nice little surprise to see that I’ve brought some popcorn home with me. Of course the shelf also catches crumbs of all kinds, which sometimes is a little messy, but what are you gonna do, you know?

All-time, absolute favorite “sexy” comment my husband has ever made while in my presence is this: “I’m a real breast man.”
Yup. Kind of sums up his entire personality, doesn’t it? Straight-shooting, not too concerned about sounding cute or raw or even terribly clever… just slapping it out there like it is. Gotta love it…

This post needs a picture. You know so we can fully understand the extent of your problem.

I’m afraid I’m not original at all when it comes to complimenting women’s breasts. If Im at a girl bar and feeling brave I might just say “I love your tits.” I figure that will go over well for a few more years.

“B is for Breasts – of which ladies have two;
Once prized for the function, and now for the view.” ~~Robert Smith

Ahh Bountiful Bosoms. So delightful. Breasts are alluring to men in ways most women have never understood. I would think if men were suddenly not at all fascinated, intrigued, distracted and obsessed by breasts most women would feel rather disappointed. What if every male was suddenly dis-interested in magnificent mammaries? No ogling. No sideways stare. Just complete indifference -of yeah whatever. Breasts relegated to being occasionally functional bits of human glandular anatomy.

I think the problem isn’t that most men are fascinated and intoxicated by breasts and other womanly parts. The problem is most men have no idea how to compliment an attractive woman so that it doesn’t sound like a preview of their bedroom grunting noises.

Perhaps there is an e-book series opportunity here – “Merlinspielen’s How-to Guide for Men #1: Speaking to a Woman’s Chest” and “Merlinspielen’s How-to Guide for Men #2: Eye Contact for Dummies”
Oh 50-Shades look out…

When I first read this, Merlin, I thought, “Robert Smith wrote this?? I thought I knew every song the Cure ever did, but I don’t remember this at all.” That shows you the extent of my poetry knowledge.

I think your e-book series idea is an excellent one. God knows that so many of your fellow males need some tutelage. Please accommodate them. Thanks.

i have always had bountiful breastages — and while nursing, i had a bra that was huge! i saved it, because i can wear it on my head like a helmet (sides come down to my ears) and then buckle it up across my chin and it’s a padded bra helmet — i may eventually use it for Roller Derby if the local crew makes up a “huff and puff” geriatric league…

had the chesticles reduced to a C cup (from a 38 Long) after the breast cancer diagnosis. still get the comments, but not quite as bad. i can’t say that i can remember a clever comment, though. other than from my BFF Studley, who caught me wearing a nametag on my chest at some fundraiser. Asked me “‘daisyfae’ huh? That’s nice. What did you name the other one?”

Just as well I never had kids, because I’d have had the same problem as you, daisyfae!

I had a comment from a friend similar to your BFF Studley (I love that moniker, btw). I was wearing a new t-shirt and forgot to take the “L” size sticker off it. As it happens, the sticker was over one boob. So my friend pointed to the sticker and said “I know they’re large, but you don’t have to advertise that.”

I’m with ya on the eye contact– half of the time I want to grab the damn guy’s head and smack his chin upwards… eyes are up here buddy. Yes– I am bodacious….
Love the Seinfeld reference and your post.. always a good one M Weebles– lady of the 80’s. I bet you rocked the half shirt too 🙂 and big hair?

Thanks A! Belief it or not I didn’t have big hair—this was before I had reached detente with my curly hair, and so I wore it short and blew it straight. More of a Molly Ringwald kind of thing (except not red). And it was just a regular t-shirt–I’m sure my dad would have locked me in my room if I tried to leave the house in a half shirt! Meanwhile I know what you mean about the eye contact — it makes me wonder how many guys would recognize me if they just saw a head shot.

After dinner and re-reading this post I was reminded of my favorite cheap detective novel scene from my teenage years. Ahh how I r-read that passage again and again. I have no idea what the story was and I no longer have the book so paraphrased from my faulty memory to your comments:

She walked into the bar and I could tell she was packing heat right away. She was a cop alright. And my kind of cop packing a pair of 38s – and a gun. She poured into the chair beside me. She smiled at me and I said “Are those loaded?” She laughed and slid a hand up my thigh, “I could ask the same thing honey – is that loaded? And do you have the safety on – cause I wouldn’t want it to to go off half-cocked…”
She moved her hand to my chin and looked me in the eyes, “My eyes are up here Johnny, otherwise I’d have a hard time seeing through my blouse.”

I loved the line “My dear lady, your mammaries are quite bountiful and luxurious indeed. Good day to you!”. Would that have worked as an Englishman abroad?

As I pointed out to my wife before, a man will automatically look, you have to make yourself not look, not make yourself look. I don’t use that as an excuse to gawp at female chests. The comments on the other hand, well they are not automatic.

This is a great post … and the comments are even better. Meanwhile, I’m glad that I’m only a looker and don’t say a word. Of course this post rekindles the memory of the great Seinfeld episode of the trip to the Hamptons – my fav episode with the ugly baby, Kramer catching lobsters, tomatoes, the ugly baby, shrinkage, and Elaine (while seeing George’s girlfriend walking topless on the beach) proclaim “Great rack.”

The comments to this post are making me kvell. I forgot about that line from that episode of Seinfeld! That was a great one too, I remember laughing out loud at Elaine’s line when that episode was first run. Thanks for the reminder, Frank. Oh, I also just remembered the episode where George is staring at the cleavage of a young Denise Richards as Russell Dalrymple’s daughter. I mean, we all look—even I look at nice cleavage—but cat-calling? Really?

I have huge hooters but they used to be normal sized. Two kids and some weight gain (SOME…now there is an understatement) and they grew. The rest of me grew as well so the jerks see the double chin first and the pot belly next and they just keep walking. Hmmmm may be I do wear my weight as a sheild….But, suffice to say, I have not had the dubious pleasure of being busty and the object of men’s stupidity. I do have the drag of bra strap shoulder dents and gapping button down shirts….

I know exactly what you’re talking about, Wanda. I’ve been there. I hope you haven’t had the comments about your weight, because I’ve had those too, and they’re WAY worse than the comments about the bustline.

I get those too and they are worse because they are usually said with disgust disguised as advice. I was bulemic most of my life and I’m not willing to get on that crazy train again for anyone. And since my health is better than ALL the biological members of my family and they are skinny….no motivation there honey….

I’m glad you’re here, Curmudgeon. Until now there was only one request for a photo submission. Now that there are 2, we have a quorum. So I will oblige. Look for it in a future post, one with the title “I am soooooo drunk!!! Check it out!!!”

Wow, Terry Thomas—that’s a name I haven’t heard in many many moons. But it seems to be not just my fellow Americans with this fixation, as I’ve encountered it in people of many nationalities. Bless you all, you just like boobs.

I am a well-bosomed person myself, so I get where you’re coming from. The worst experience I had was couple years ago, when I stepped in to do some tutoring at the writing center. Now I’m sure I’ve gotten plenty of looks I didn’t notice because the students were polite enough to pay more attention to the tutoring than my chest, but this one young boy (18, tops) literally couldn’t stop staring. It was the first time I really wanted to say, “My eyes are up here.”

It’s nice to know that your students were mostly swift enough to know not to stare directly into the sun like that. There’s always one who doesn’t quite get it, though, isn’t there. Poor kid, if he was 18 tops, he probably had so many hormones surging through his veins that he’s lucky he wasn’t drooling.

awesome post! you should see my “you’ve got a phat ass” bit…oh, how i lament in similar ways!! and there’s no place like the streets of new york for dudes telling you how they really feel. everywhere else women are protected by the car…but, in ny, we’re all targets… it’s something to experience. loved it!

I’ve seen your phat ass bit, in your video clip! It’s fucking hilarious. I never got the ass comments but that’s probably because their eyes never got past my rack. It’s true, in NY, everyone is fair game because we’re all out in the open, so to speak.

Buxom has never been an adjective used to describe me…which is why I’ve watched from the sidelines on this post. Nothing of worth to contribute from this camp.
But, if we’re talking itty-bitty camp. The best line I’ve heard is, “All ya need is a mouth full, honey; anything more is just gluttony.” Ch a-ching!
Boobage – damned if ya do and damned if ya don’t have the stuff. I’m not complaining though, sans cancer I’ll take ’em orange and blue stripped!

Hellz yeah, Nikki. Cancer-free boobage of any size is best!! I’ve heard about that “all you need is a mouthful” line too (although it wasn’t directed at me) so it just goes to show you that boobs of all sizes can be, you know, titillating.

So true, Kate. I haven’t run into anyone who assumed I was an idiot because of my bra size, but I’m reminded of a line from a comedian I once heard: “It’s not that the bigger the bra size, the dumber the women; it’s the bigger the bra size, the dumber the men become.” Not all guys, naturally, but a fair number of them…

I feel a huge pressure to be a chivalrous gentlemen whenever breasts are mentioned. When my friend Dan and I discuss those wonderful marvels of femininity, (or, equally, tubby men) we do so in the least sexy way possible, so as not to be lewd. The best phrase we have is ‘shirt potatoes’.

I would also like to make it known that man cannot live on boobs alone. My last girlfriend couldn’t wait to tell me she was a GG cup. The conversation stopped soon after that because she presumably had a third internal breast where her personality was supposed to be.

Shirt potatoes. I like that, that’s very descriptive. And not even remotely sexy.

Yeah, that’s a lesson for the ladies: even if your girls are GGs, you’re going to need to talk occasionally. Even if it’s just to say, “Hey, my eyes are up HERE.” So it’s best to have some sort of hook, like brains or a sense of humor or something.

High five, sister. It’s definitely a blessing and a curse. I remember being at a clothing store once and seeing a nice top that I wanted to try on. A saleswoman was standing nearby and saw me looking at this shirt and she said, in a very loud voice, “THAT BLOUSE WON’T FIT YOU RIGHT, DEAR.”

I think I just muttered something and put it back, but what I should have said was, “JEALOUS??”

I’m more than just a bit shy, but In 30+ years on this planet I have never said something like that to a woman. Ever. Well, that’s not entirely true… I’ve probably said similar things to my wife, but I feel like I know her pretty well… so, it seems like that should work in my favor. ALTHOUGH, I did choose this post to leave my finally back comment on, so… you know…
(A-Rod card moment, I guess).
🙂

My favourite was “I bet you $5 I can make your tits wobble without touching them”.
*wobbles tits by hand*
“damn maybe next time, here’s ya $5… Wanna go double or nothing?”

I also remember a mate once telling a flat chested barmaid “I got a joke that’ll make you.laugh your tits off…. Oh… You heard it already” he says staring at her chest. 10 minutes later I said to my mate “wanna hear a pickup line that earns you a black eye.from a chick?”

But my all time favourite moment was hearing a sheila talking about her new implants (b – d cup) when a bloke said, “if you show me your surgery i’ll show you mine”. Without hesitation the lady replied “I hear circumcisions take off size”

In Morrocco last new years I did everything I could to cover up the chesticles but the local lads certainly still took note of the lady lumps not hidden by the usual burkas. Since they’re not allowed to look a local lass in the eyes, let alone the boobs, I’d see them fighting with their upbringing versus the unique opportunity to ogle and leer, and finally the Y chromosome won out – I can’t tell you how many times someone pointed and yelled ‘big tits!’ at me!

I can only apologize for the “representatives of the XY chromosome pairing”. Please accept my apologies for them and please believe that I didn’t vote for them as reps. Unfortunately, the male of the species is (forgive me) “hard-wired” to react to visual stimuli. We can be trained to appear more refined, but the Animal is always lurking below the surface. Even the best of us will look, that can’t be helped. But most of us try to avoid staring and commenting.

If anybody looks for me, I’ll be over there washing the dirt out of my knuckles…